


Words All Spelling Out Desire

by stellahibernis



Series: Entire History of Human Desire [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coda, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Birthday Steve!, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Other characters in minor roles - Freeform, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), everything is fine for once, things that seem redundant turn out to be significant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 05:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15163862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellahibernis/pseuds/stellahibernis
Summary: They begin Steve’s hundredth birthday with the intention of it being just like any other, but it ends up being more significant than either of them could have imagined.





	Words All Spelling Out Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Since the canon currently is too grim for a birthday fic, here I am in the canon divergent universe of happiness.
> 
> This is a coda fic for about 85k of domestic life and recovery, so if that sounds like your kind of thing [click through here to the beginning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590288/chapters/23409510). Otherwise if you just want birthday fluff, this probably works on its own, if you take into account that in this verse the mess in CACW was sorted out in late 2016, Bucky woke up in April 2017, and after that moved to New York with Steve. Steve took a break from Avenging, Bucky became Captain America instead, they worked out their issues including the pining one, and are now happily in love. Steve recently got back to work, the Asgardian refugees turned up because they wanted to set up a new home at the place Odin designated in Ragnarok, and all other aliens are staying at their part of the galaxy.
> 
> This all leads to the morning of Steve’s hundredth birthday at their home in Brooklyn, may he have many happy returns!

**_July 4th 2018_ **

 

For once Bucky is awake before Steve without a nightmare having crept upon him. It’s been a couple of fairly easy weeks for him, certainly better than for Steve, who’s been busy communicating with the UN and the Asgardians, who have now received a permission to settle in Norway at the site Odin chose for them. Apparently there are still agreements that need to be finalized, details to be hammered out, but the main thing was agreed on surprisingly fast, and the Asgardian refugees are now in the process of settling on Earth, with the exception of Loki whose status is still under debate. Steve is working on getting back the hours of sleep he lost having to talk to people over time zones, but at least they no longer need to stay at the compound, and Steve gets to wake up at home on his birthday. 

It feels surreal to think it’s been a hundred years since Steve’s birth, somehow it gives context to the extent of their lives more than Bucky’s own birthday did earlier in the year. It’s probably because he very often feels ancient; the hundred and one years since his birth too few rather than too many. With Steve, hundred years feels like it’s too many. It’s true that he sometimes does appear older than his thirty-three years out of ice, with his experiences having taken their toll, but hundred years even in that context is just ridiculous. Not to mention, it’s just as often that Steve appears younger than his lived years now that he’s doing better and knows how to occasionally let go of his load of duties to recover. The disconnect that the both of them have suffered is always more apparent when he thinks of it via Steve, the shift from past to present becomes real.

It’s all easier now that they’re together, for the both of them. Bucky knows that the gap in time weighed heavily on Steve after he woke from the ice, it was why he worked so hard to adjust and fit himself into the new life on the surface, while also having hard time connecting with people. For Bucky the problem was conceptualizing his own timeline, everything seemed to be floating around, disconnected events he tried to fit into years. Both of those problems have eased since they started living together, as has a myriad of other troubles. They’re in a good place now, not completely healed, because when it comes to trauma like theirs it’s a lifelong process, but close enough that it doesn’t prevent them from living normal lives, at least what passes for normal for the Avengers.

Bucky has time and time again told Steve, the same as Steve has told him, that he’s happy with the life they share. He’s also thought of telling Steve that staying apart, at least for as long as they did due to Bucky’s avoidance, was probably a mistake, but he’s never found words for it. He’s never sure if Steve would feel vindicated or just sad, and he doesn’t accidentally want to invite sadness into their current happiness.

He shifts in the bed, seeking a better position for his arm, and Steve shifts with him, snuggling closer and mashing his face against Bucky’s chest. It’s frankly adorable, as well as funny because the unconscious gesture comes off odd on someone so large. Steve shifts again when Bucky shakes with held back laughter, but settles when Bucky runs a soothing hand down his spine. Bucky ends up with his arms wrapped around Steve, content to lie there even though he knows he’s not going to fall asleep.

It’s not just that he’s had plenty of sleep recently that keeps him awake. There is a thread of nervousness in him too. For months now it’s been impossible to forget that Steve’s birthday has been approaching, because the centennial means every single publication and television channel has been cranking out articles, documentaries, discussions, or fluff pieces, whatever their style. Many of them have proudly announced they’re telling the story of the man behind the mask, a claim which Bucky knows to be extremely optimistic, since they all talk of Steve through the expectations of what they think he should be like. Bucky has mostly ignored them, at least as much as is possible when Steve’s face is staring at him from the magazine rack every time he goes to get groceries.

The constant reminder of Steve’s birthday has made him think about it, because he wants to give something significant to him, to mark the occasion better than they managed last year. In retrospect, he thinks it might have been lucky that he had a mission on the day, for all that he’d been miserable then, and that they’d celebrated later in a very relaxed manner. He now knows for both of them the process of recovery had just started then, and if they’d tried to make it an occasion, something markedly special, it might have backfired, caused stress they didn’t need. Now that they’re steady when it comes to both themselves and each other, it’s a different matter, and Bucky wants to do something good for Steve. Not to mention, Steve nailed the gift on his last birthday so it’s at least a tiny bit a matter of pride. It took him a while, but he finally came to a decision, and his gift is deeply personal and revealing, even after the year and change of trying to be as honest with each other as they can. Hence, thinking of it makes Bucky nervous, but not uncertain. It’s the right thing to do, the final piece of allowing Steve to see all of him.

It’s light enough that he can see well, and his gaze lands on the tags, both his and Steve’s in one heap on the nightstand. They always know which set is which, for all that they’re similar in the way that matters; that each set carries one of tag from both of them. The chains are different, Steve’s is the original, less shiny than Bucky’s brand new one, and there’s some discoloration on the tags from war and from being in ice for seventy years. It was a perfect gift from Steve to him on his birthday, their simple significance spanning back decades, but also into their new life. For all that people usually don’t see the tags, they’re still a tangible evidence of how they belong together, how they now can be open about it. Bucky smiles at the thought, the way he always does when he remembers, because he never dared to believe it possible.

Half an hour later Steve’s breathing changes, a sure sign of him starting to wake up. Bucky stays where he is, waiting for Steve to swim up to consciousness, and he’s happy to see Steve waking up gradually and peacefully, rather than slamming into alertness which is all too common for both of them. Steve’s lips curl into a smile, and when his eyes open they’re bright and clear, no traces of fatigue left.

“Happy birthday,” Bucky says and pulls Steve into a kiss.

“It certainly is so far,” Steve says right against his lips before claiming them again for more.

They spend the next few moments kissing, and Steve rolls more firmly on top of Bucky, trapping him under his considerable bulk. Bucky doesn’t mind at all, he loves these slow mornings, and as of late with Steve back to work they’ve had far less chances to indulge themselves. He burrows down into the pillows, angles his head just so that their lips fit together perfectly without either of them having to tilt their heads too much. They exchange languid lazy kisses, and Steve seems perfectly happy there, just exploring Bucky’s mouth, sucking his lower lip in and nibbling at it, and Bucky draws a breath filled with the arousal slowly growing inside him. He keeps holding tight onto Steve, pressing his fingers into the muscles of his back, the slightly different sensations from his hands mixing up inside his head.

Steve pauses and draws back just a bit, only enough that Bucky can fully see his face, happy and awake, his eyes darkened with desire, a slight flush up on his cheeks. Clearly he’s only thinking of this, of them right here and now, and Bucky is happy he can do so, can shed the load he bears. In time, maybe Bucky can too, can stop his head from always being aware of the surroundings, of always remembering the context. He wants to be able to just fall into the sensation, but it’s not possible for him just yet. For now, he’s satisfied that at least Steve can, even with the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, an obvious indication that his recovery is holding solid.

“Don’t you want your present?” Bucky asks, a bit mischievously, and Steve laughs, his answer not that unpredictable at all.

“I’d say you’re my present.”

In their bed Bucky is more than happy to give Steve whatever he wants, on this day in particular even more so, and so he settles into it, allowing the arousal to burst to the foreground of his mind when they kiss once more. He shifts, takes a hold of Steve’s hips intending to flip them over, but Steve resists and presses him down to the bed more firmly, guiding his hands to the side.

“Nope, I’m taking my time with you, you just lay there.” Steve kisses him on top of the cheek and at the corner of the jaw, and form there he trails down Bucky’s neck, his beard tickling the sensitive skin.

Bucky gives in, he knows that when Steve gets this kind of determined glint in his eyes he’s not going to be deterred. Besides, it’s not like he has any objections to surrendering to Steve’s ministrations. “I think there’s a joke about giving and receiving in here somewhere,” Bucky says, his voice breathless, because they never were ones to just let go of things when it came to each other.

“You can tell me when you figure out what it is,” Steve says before wrapping his lips around Bucky’s nipple, effectively preventing him from thinking of anything other than the sensation radiating outward from Steve’s mouth on his skin.

Bucky is hard already, he was mostly hard when he woke up, and while he flagged a bit during the time he was waiting for Steve to wake up, the arousal has swiftly returned, and he’s grateful really when Steve wraps his fingers around his cock, giving it a few tugs to bring it the rest of the way. Bucky’s legs are tangled in the sheets, and he gets momentarily stuck when he tries to kick them away, making Steve laugh on top of him, his breath puffing over Bucky’s tender nipple. Bucky can’t even be properly mad about it, since the shaking of the laughter gets carried to the hand around his cock, pushing him yet further toward bliss.

Steve finally takes pity of him and helps with pulling the sheets aside, although it’s definitely a mixed blessing since Steve had to rise and take his hands off him to achieve it. It’s better afterward; Steve shifts and leans in to take his cock into his mouth. Bucky lets out a garbled moan, his words of complaint melting away as he desperately grabs a pillow with his left hand, just barely remembering to be gentler with his right that settles in Steve’s hair. Steve draws back up, definitely bumping against Bucky’s hand with his head, the movement almost catlike. He enjoys it when Bucky caresses his hair when he goes down, as Bucky well knows. Steve lets out a pleased hum that vibrates along Bucky’s cock as he sinks back down, causing Bucky’s fingers close, tugging just a bit.

By now they’ve had more than half a year to practice, and Steve knows exactly how to draw him up to the edge and hold him there hovering just at the brink of the bliss. It probably won’t take that long before he’ll have to let go, it usually doesn’t in the mornings, but Bucky doesn’t put conscious focus on himself, and instead concentrates on Steve, how his hair is silky against his hand, how he keeps humming as he swallows Bucky’s cock, obviously happy.

Steve draws off completely before mouthing down the underside of Bucky’s cock, placing sucking kisses on it one after another until he reaches the base. There he grazes the sensitive skin with his teeth, gives it just the lightest nip that hits Bucky’s nerves just right and he’s coming, suddenly shaking apart sooner than he expected. He has barely any coordination left but he tries to pull Steve up, and even though it comes as a feeble tug at his hair Steve understands what he wants, and crawls up the bed to kiss Bucky again and again, bringing him down softly and gently.

Soon as he’s mostly in control of his limbs Bucky rolls them so that Steve is on his back, intending to reciprocate, but Steve holds onto him, keeps kissing him as if he wants nothing more, and especially today he can have whatever he wants, so Bucky shifts up a bit to find a more comfortable position, to gain leverage to thoroughly keep kissing Steve while he wraps his left hand around Steve’s cock, compensating for the inevitable jolt of Steve’s hips that happens whenever Bucky used his metal hand. By now it’s a well established fact Steve really likes it.

He keeps kissing Steve, sometimes pressing hard and demanding, sometimes pulling away so that their lips are feather light on each other, pulling even farther when Steve chases after him, twisting his hand to get Steve to fall back into the pillows, panting, before kissing him again. It’s a perfect way to spend his afterglow; he’s completely satisfied for himself, and hence fully able to focus on every little trick to bring Steve pleasure, not distracted by his own body’s demands. Steve vocalizes under his breath, incoherent words trying to find their way out, and Bucky drinks every breath and sound from his lips, pressing hard against them when Steve finally spills over his hand, kisses him again and again until they both need to draw breath.

Bucky settles with his head resting on Steve’s shoulder, listening to his heart rate come down. They’re both sticky and in need of a shower, but that can wait, they’re not moving now that their happiness is even more perfect than usual.

 

* * *

 

They manage to shower without any distractions, if only because Bucky leaves Steve to sort himself out while he takes the first turn. Steve remains in bed, reluctant to let go of the remains of lingering bliss yet, even though it’s not nearly so nice now that Bucky’s gone, and he’s definitely noticing the itchiness more. He’s smiling, and he thinks he might not stop for a while, he’s just so happy. He thoroughly enjoys the contrast of a lingering morning spent at home to those he’s had at the compound recently, getting up and almost straight to work. It feels like the right kind of a balance between duty and relaxation, he needs both of them right now, maybe always has, but it’s only recently that he’s found a way to navigate his way so that he can have both.

He gets up after the shower has stopped running, the sweat on his skin starting to chill unpleasantly in the breeze coming through the open window, cool for now even though it promises to be a beautiful day. They of course have air conditioning in the house, but in the summer they often prefer shutting it down and opening windows for the night, the faint buzz of the nightly noises of the city familiar and calming to both of them. Steve does appreciate modern technology for the fact that even after hot days he can still go to sleep in a cool bedroom, unlike in the days of his youth, when it often was a toss up between the coldness of winters or the heat of summer which was harder for his constitution.

While he’s washing his hair Steve watches Bucky shave, noticing it’s an everything must go kind of a day for him. The amount of beard varies according to Bucky’s moods, sometimes he’s clean-shaven, sometimes he leaves a bit of a stubble, sometimes he lets his beard grow out, although never too long. He keeps his hair short, about the same length it used to be back in the forties, but it doesn’t look like it did then, tamed to the last inch. Today Bucky runs his fingers though it with just a bit of a product, to keep it from falling into his eyes, and otherwise lets it dry as is. Steve loves the soft curls, loves the varying amounts of beard, because it’s who Bucky is now, settled into himself in the future after everything.

When Bucky finishes and leaves Steve finally focuses on his task, and it only takes a moment to get clean. He trims his beard, shaves the stray hairs but otherwise lets it stay. Many of his friends had expected him to shave it off completely once he got back to work, but Steve decided to keep it. He likes the look, likes the visible reminder to both himself and others that it’s different now.

The coffee is almost ready when Steve comes to the kitchen, and Bucky’s at the stove making an omelet. What gets Steve’s attention, though, is a large plateful of cupcakes, several different varieties of them. There’s a card too, pleasantly void of anything relating to Captain America, which Steve still mostly gets associated with, even now that Bucky’s carried the shield for a year already. The card is signed by most of their close neighbors, all of those who Steve got to know over the year and change he spent recovering. He feels warm all over, his already brimming cup of happiness flooding to know that they really think of him as Steve, their fellow Brooklynite first and foremost.

“They were left on the table under the awning there.” Bucky gestures toward their backyard. “I’m a bit surprised they didn’t descent on you en masse, especially since you wouldn’t celebrate the day with them.”

“Guess they’re saving their energy for next year.” Steve tacks the card on the fridge door, pulls out a few pieces of fruit and starts cutting them up, ignoring Bucky giving him a stink eye and trying to insist he shouldn’t work on his birthday.

They were invited to celebrate the Fourth with their neighbors in the small park nearby, apparently they go as a group every year. Steve really considered going, but decided against it, since it’s bound to be an event this year if he’s anywhere in public, the amount of media interest has made it clear. Instead they promised to go next year, provided of course there is no pressing Avenger business.

Besides the one from their neighbors, Steve got invitations to literally hundreds of official or relaxed celebrations of the Fourth. He declined them all, because he knows they wouldn’t be about him, they would be about whatever construct the organizers have in mind, and he’s not at all inclined to cater to that. They at first considered just having a small celebration at the compound, he wants it to be at most like any other birthday, but since the Asgardians’ stay on Earth was approved, they wanted to have a celebration, and it fell on the fourth just by chance, which suits Steve perfectly. Soon after breakfast they’ll be picked up by a quinjet that’ll take them all to New Asgard in Norway. Their Wakandan friends will also be around, and it’ll probably be overwhelming, but also relaxed, it’s supposed to be very informal gathering.

When they sit down to breakfast, Bucky says, “I kept my promise, by the way.”

“Which one was that?”

“Last year I said we’d spend your birthday together, and here we are.”

Steve smiles, although he has to point out, “Actually you promised we’d watch the fireworks together, and since we’re meaning to leave the city, that doesn’t seem to be happening.”

Bucky kicks him under the table but seems to concede the point. “As long as we’re not called to action I’m happy.”

“Same here.”

After putting away the breakfast dishes Steve wanders to living room, thinking of maybe reading for a bit before they have to leave. Bucky comes in a moment later, carrying a parcel wrapped in simple brown paper, tied with twine. It doesn’t look much different from a lot of other birthday presents Steve has received, and he likes the simple presentation more than many complicated or flashy ones with ruffles and silver paper he’s received over the previous years.

When he takes it he notices a slight tremble in Bucky, a sure sign of nerves, and so he lays the parcel down and takes Bucky’s hand, rubbing it between both of his. “What is it?”

Bucky’s smile is definitely rueful, and he nods at the parcel. “Open it, I’ll explain.”

Inside is a small stack of notebooks, exactly like the one Steve remembers picking up at Bucky’s apartment in Bucharest. At a glance these too are written full, the notes ranging from big blocks of text to apparently random words to crossed out sections.

“I wrote those during the two years after D.C. They were confiscated of course, but Stark got them back for me a couple of months ago.” Bucky pauses for a moment. “I want you to have them, because I want you to know.”

Steve understands what the books mean; they’re the last bit of Bucky opening up, showing Steve everything of himself, even those things he can’t easily talk about. It’s probably much the same as Steve’s paintings, they communicate things Steve cannot force himself to say.

He pulls Bucky into his arms, holding on tight, and Bucky does just the same. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

New Asgard is quite a sight, even now that there aren’t any permanent buildings yet. The Asgardians live in colorful tents that to Bucky look like they’re taken straight out of storybooks, and the people themselves are much the same. Steve appears to be just as overwhelmed, he tells Bucky he’s gotten used to Thor, but it’s quite another thing to be around hundreds like him, if not quite as overwhelming for the most part, even though there are exceptions, but people that are definitely not humans.

Bucky has only briefly met Thor before, but he’s still greeted warmly as any friend, the easy acceptance partly because he’s important to Steve, but also because it’s apparent to him Thor has looked at him and considered him worthy of it. There’s a curious contrast in Thor, on one hand he comes off very relaxed and friendly, but there is keen intellect and power behind it, a king determined to do the best for his people. Bucky doesn’t know too much of Thor, but he thinks the balance has been bought with some hard experiences.

Like they were promised, it’s very informal, the Asgardians mixing with the Avengers and their friends and family as well as the Wakandans. They all form smaller groups, eat and drink, and it’s generally an enjoyable affair. Steve of course is much in demand, it seems drinking to one’s health is an important birthday tradition among the Asgardians, enough that Steve has resorted to taking only small sips from his glass. Bucky spends some time with the Wakandans he got to know during the few weeks he spent there while he was fitted with a new arm before they headed out to New York with Steve. Apparently Shuri convinced Sam to bring Redwing with him, and Bucky finds it hilarious to watch him try to not look terrified while Shuri digs into the insides of the drone. Bucky has no doubt Redwing will come out of it with a host of new applications and a lot better reliability and energy efficiency.

It’s a happy event, but after a while Bucky retreats to a quiet area, near the hillside that’s falling steeply into the ocean. He rolls his shoulders, drawing in the quiet. He’s been continuously on edge since they arrived, for all that he’s used to being around the Avengers, there are now so many people that register as potential threats to him that he can’t help but tense up. It helps to take a moment of quiet, to center his mind.

It’s warmer than he thinks it should be in New Asgard, there’s some gray mist over the sea where the wind pushes the waves enough that he can see white spray forming on top of them. It’s probably some localized bubble, at least Bucky hopes it’s localized, the Earth doesn’t need any additional messing with the weather system. He notes there are people on boats and land around New Asgard, probably brought by curiosity, which makes Bucky think he’s in some kind of a weird zoo. Many of them seem to have brought food and settled out for picnic. He wonders how many spies there are just keeping an eye on things.

He’s roused from his thoughts by a woman who just appears by his side, stealthy enough that Bucky has to rein himself in from lashing out in surprise. He’s about to admonish her, except she winks, clearly knowing exactly what she did, and on second look, it’s obvious she actually wouldn’t need to worry about the consequences of startling him, she’d be able to handle it. She sits down next to him and hands him one of the bottles she brought, taking a deep drink from the other. Bucky is a bit confused, and takes a swig just to collect himself. He’s not sure what is in the bottle, only that enough of it will definitely get him drunk if he continues.

“Thanks,” he says, remembering his manners.

“You’re welcome. You looked temporarily exhausted by the crowd, same as me, so I felt solidarity.”

She’s dressed in comfortable clothes, white and silver except for the blue cape that’s looped around her shoulders in careless folds, and her long dark hair flits in the gentle wind. Bucky gets the feeling she has at least as many knives on her person as he does, even though her laid back temperament suggests a certain harmlessness. There’s also a sense guardedness about her, something that makes Bucky hesitant to ask questions to satisfy his curiosity. It’s still comfortable, though, sitting quietly with her. He finds himself calming down, for all that he’s aware she could probably turn him inside out if she wanted to.

In the end she’s the one to break the silence. “I’m still not used to being around all of them. Most of them don’t remember.” To Bucky’s questioning look she says, “Asgard was a very different sort of place millennia ago. It was an empire built the same way as all of them are, and I was a soldier. I left a long time ago because I failed my purpose.”

“You came back though.”

“The new king asked me to, and it seems I’ve not lost all my sense of duty.”

“There are things you have to do, I guess,” Bucky says, and despite not knowing exactly what she’s been through, he understands her, at the instinctual level. His eyes fall on Steve, and he again thinks he doesn’t regret one moment of their lives together.

She catches his look, and asks, “Did you ever die for him?”

“As close as,” Bucky says, unsure of where she’s going with this.

“Well then, you should know this already, but in case you don’t, I’ll tell you. Don’t do that again, it’s terrible being left behind. If you really love him, then live and die together with him, and go to Valhalla together.”

She obviously speaks from experience, and somehow when she says it Bucky has to believe it can be achieved, even though it doesn’t really work like that for humans. There are too many chances of things going wrong. But then again, he has to allow, “It didn’t take the last time, so I guess it’s not my place to go alone.”

Steve looks up, as if sensing he’s being talked about, and his smile is as radiant as ever when he catches Bucky’s eye.

“No, it’s not,” she says, and gently pushes Bucky toward the group of people.

It’s only when he’s already there Bucky realizes he didn’t even ask her name.

 

* * *

 

When Bucky comes to him Steve is glad to notice he seems calmer again, that the quiet time aside clearly has helped. He didn’t want to say anything about it, because for all that they try to be honest about their troubles, it’s one of those things Bucky feels self-conscious about, even when he’s far from being the only one who’s nervous in this crowd. Now he happily allows Steve to wrap an arm around his shoulders, snaking his left arm around his waist in turn, and Steve is fairly sure he’s veritably glowing with happiness just because they can have this, can openly be together. Even when someone comments on it, they’re similar things people say to Nat and Sam for example, it’s the same kind of gentle teasing instead of aiming to hurt.

“So when are you going to tie the knot, then?” Tony asks, the topic a bit fraught for him, because their group can probably think of a million things to cheerfully needle him about his own upcoming wedding, especially since he’s been smugly happy about it recently. For a good reason too, since he is lucky to have Pepper, as Tony will say any and every chance he’s given.

It’s obviously meant to get them to fluster, and maybe half a year earlier when the shift in their relationship was new, even though they weren’t any more committed to each other, it would have, but not now. Steve feels so centered, so sure of both himself and of their relationship, that there isn’t room for any uncertainty or embarrassment.

Bucky is the one to put it in words. “Seems kind of redundant, you know?”

He’s exactly right about it, because they are already so committed to each other, they already share everything, that making it official in the eyes of law wouldn’t really matter to the two of them, wouldn’t make it any more permanent.

“It would maybe make some legal things easier, but those are few and far between, so it doesn’t seem worth the effort of having to get the license and going to the city hall, not to mention dealing with the attention,” Steve adds, grinning at Tony, because everyone knows his and Pepper’s wedding will be something of an event, just the kind that’ll suit them.

“Well, if that’s your only objection, you can get married right here and now,” Thor says.

“That would work for you, actually,” Natasha says. “In the agreement between Earth and Asgard it was degreed any union officiated by the Asgardians will automatically be recognized by human nations as well.”

Everyone is looking at them now, obviously expectant, excited or down right gleeful, and while Steve in the morning never could have guessed the day might become his wedding day, it’s not an idea that is in any way objectionable. When he looks back at Bucky, he’s smiling the new soft and thoroughly happy smile, and shrugs.

“We might as well.”

The cheer that rises around them is practically deafening.

***

There is a flurry of considerations and discussions before the ceremony, for all that the purpose of doing it in Asgard is to avoid complications. Apparently a central part of marriage in their culture is the contract between the families, making sure everyone is in agreement about the finances and other related concerns. In this case, since their blood relatives are all gone and they already share all of their possessions, it’s fairly straightforward. Some of the Avengers and Wakandans joke that they should be considered to be an adoptive family, although Steve isn’t quite sure how they would be divided between the two of them. They quit soon enough when Steve threatens to grab a quinjet with Bucky and go to Las Vegas to get married instead.

There is also the question of rings, but they decline, neither of them too keen on wearing any. They show their tags to the others, and they are pronounced to be a suitable token of union. Many other traditions are omitted as lightly, especially the ones meant to ensure fertility. Apparently among the Asgardians they actually work.

Thor of course is the one to officiate. It is a duty he can perform as a king, one his father wasn’t too particular to, but that he enjoys. He says it’s a welcome reminder of the good things he can do, when so many of his duties have to do with governing and making sure his people are safe. These moments of actual happiness are understandably bright spots for him.

Steve tries to pay attention to it all, but it’s hard, because he feels like there is a bubble around him and Bucky, that they’re perfectly aligned in their happiness, and everyone else feels just a bit distant compared to it. It surprises him, because when they were discussing it earlier, the feeling that getting married would be redundant was a true and mutual one. Yet now the expectation and excitement is suddenly there in him, and he realizes that yes, it will matter. He knows from the way he’s smiling and never straying away from touching distance, that Bucky feels it too.

They are married on top of the hill by the sea, facing each other and hands joined, Thor standing with his back toward the ocean, their friends gathered around them. Nat and Sam stand closest of all, Sam holding the ceremonial goblet filled with mead, Natasha cradling their tags in her hands.

All of a sudden Steve feels nerves bubble up to the surface, ridiculous as it is. He knows he’ll have to look back to this day and analyze his feelings, sort them out so he’ll understand them and they’ll be all the deeper ingrained into his memory. He’ll then know yet another aspect of his love for Bucky. Now though, he’s trembling just slightly, but again it seems that their moods match perfectly. Earlier during the day Bucky was feeling uncertain when it came to his notebooks, and Steve had the understanding to support him. Now that Steve wants to sway on his feet Bucky is a rock, his hands warm and steady as they grasp Steve’s, his hold tender and strong. The calm flows into Steve with the secret smile Bucky gives him, communicates to him the unfailing certainty. Steve too finds his smile, and he squeezes Bucky’s hands in return.

Thor begins, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—”

He gets no further, because Steve bursts out in laughter at the confusion on Bucky’s face, the last of his nerves deserting him, leaving just the glow of happiness.

“That’s not seriously how your wedding ceremonies go?” Bucky demands, although he too clearly wants to laugh, and does at Thor’s reply.

“No, just yanking your chain.”

In fact, there are no speeches that day, just the ceremony stripped to bare bones, and Steve is grateful for Thor, for how he obviously understands that it’s not about the formality, just the meaning. Sam hands them the goblet, and they drink one after the other, holding the goblet together as they do. Steve has had Asgardian mead before, but this is nothing like he’s tasted, nothing like anything he’s ever drank before. It’s like distilled sunlight, it’s the only way he can describe it, and he immediately feels it course through his body, feels it pulling him toward Bucky. 

Natasha hands out the tags then, they hold them enclosed in their hands, and Thor wraps his hands around theirs closing his eyes. It’s a glow that Steve sees, even when he somehow knows it’s not really visible to his eyes but to his heart. It starts from their hands, grows until it completely envelopes them before retreating again, not disappearing but drawing into their tags. It’s a blessing of their union, not a guarantee of happiness, because the Asgardians are not almighty, but it is a wish for it, something that’ll carry them a bit further.

They do keep the tradition of a kiss at the end of the ceremony, and the people are probably cheering, but the only thing Steve is really conscious of are Bucky’s hands framing his face, Bucky’s lips on his, dear and familiar as always.

There are even fireworks in the end, after the darkness has fallen as much as it ever does in the middle of the summer so far north. They’re fireworks unlike anything Steve has ever seen, moving and dancing across the sky in all the colors of the rainbow, lingering far longer than they should. It’s a wonderful spectacle, made all the better since he’s watching it sitting in front of Bucky, whose knees are bracketing his legs, arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Bucky is humming low under his breath as they watch, audible only for Steve as he leans his head against Bucky’s, the vibrations carrying in through his back. He can also feel it when Bucky grins suddenly.

“I did end up keeping my promise after all, I want it marked down.”

Steve leans back a bit more and rests his hands over Bucky’s. “You did. I know you keep all the ones that matter, you always have.”

“You too. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Since they used the tags in place of rings, I guess it means in retrospect that they got engaged on Bucky’s birthday, and Steve was the one doing the proposing, even though he didn’t know that. Neither did the author at the time, the wedding idea came to me only in June.
> 
> This story is now complete, and they can live in the happy bubble of their pocket universe for the rest of their lives.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, whether you’re new to the story or have followed along since April last year!
> 
> I'm also on [tumblr](http://stellahibernis.tumblr.com/).


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